Lead by Strings - Freed by Love

We all want to follow our hearts and dreams.  Throughout history there have been different rules for girls than boys.  Throughout history women have been bound by Old World Traditions. 

Once upon a time there was a little girl, that little girl was my mother

She came into the world on March 30, 1925, naked and unaware of the difficult life ahead of her, by the hands of a local midwife in a small room on Warren St. belonging to her Aunt Maria and her poppa’s Uncle Pete in downtown St. Louis.  It was an Irish neighborhood with immigrants from not only Ireland, but Germany and Italy as well.

She was christened Gerolama or Geraldine, nick name, Momo or Mamie, no middle name, at Our Lady Help of Christians church.  It was a little Italian church rented from the Protestants.  (My mother thinks this is amusing, since in those days, she was told the Protestants would all go to hell!) I remember that church well because as a little girl, my grandma, who was a very big and rough grandma, being all of 5 feet, would take me by the hand and drag me there for special occasions which always involved candles, processions and special indulgences that did away with time in purgatory.

My mother’s name was given according to an old Sicilian tradition.  The first-born female will be named after the father’s mother. 

Mamie’s parents, Rosalia Ciaramataro and Salvatore Sanfilippo, immigrated to the United States in 1923.  Brave young souls, they each boarded a large crowed boat alone, and headed for the steerage. They clung their few possessions to their bodies and left behind their beloved Trapido, a beautiful village, near the Tyranian Sea, with its fishermen, colorful boats, huts, dirt roads and olive orchards.  They left their village of rich tradition and heart-breaking poverty, the kind of poverty that made them hunger for a better life, for America, the land of opportunity!  They were armed with a third grade education, intelligence, integrity, common sense, a sense of purpose, a remarkable resourcefulness and the grit to ultimately get them through a life in a foreign land, the depression and the raising of 9 children.

Mamie, the first born of Rosalia and Salvatore, was her parents pride and joy; she was obedient, hard working and intelligent.  Not knowing a word of English, she began her short-lived education.  Mamie at age five walked into Sacred Heart School scared and timid.  What a site she was with her long bangs and big eyes.  The hands of her mother made every stitch of clothing down to the cotton underwear under her dress and the socks that covered her feet.  Not knowing a word of English, what strange sounds came into her ears!  She was extraordinary in many ways not only in her appearance.  As soon as she could walk, a soft cloth was put in her hands and she learned her first lesson, how to dust.  Before she entered Sacred Heart School with the young Sisters of Loretto, only five years old, she was already trained to help her mother with more difficult household chores like changing diapers of her multiplying siblings.

Her parents taught her “work makes you noble”.   She knew she was already a very noble little girl, for her parents were good and kind, but hard taskmasters, and over protective.  When a neighbor child came to the door asking her to play.  Her reply was as instructed, I can ‘t come out and play, I have to help my mother. Mamie grew in knowledge and stature, but not too much, she only reached 4 feet 11 inches, weighting 90 lbs.  She was most appreciated by her parents.  She became their window to their adopted country.  They needed to know, and she was the door to that knowing.  Daily, she read and translated the St. Louis Post to her parents and their tenants. They were so proud of her!

America’s opportunities did not come without a price.  After a long day of pushing a wooden cart filled with fresh vegetables from north to south St. Louis, Salvatore would come home and wash up to sit with Rosalia on the stoop to share stories with their family and neighbors, as was the custom in their native land.  Mr. Russo was the wise, older one.  The younger ones would follow what he said.  “The boys help their poppa and the girls help their momma.   The boys will have to support their family, so they need to go on to school, but the girls will stay home and have babies.  The girls, they don’t need to go to school.”

Although Mamie was praised for her efforts and adored for what she could do for her parents.  She followed their rules and the commandments, especially the Fourth Commandment.  Boys help their father and girls help their mother.  In total there were seven boys and two girls. Since her sister was born 18 years later, Mamie had more than her share of work.   A girl will only stay home and have babies, why would she need to go on to school?  So when the good sisters gave her a scholarship to St. Rock High School.  She had to go to Sr. Mary Edwards and say “my mother will not allow me to go to high school.”  The sister looked with heart wrenching compassion into her eyes and said, “I don’t understand why a mother would not want her daughter to go to school.” 

Well Mr. Russo was right!  My mom stayed home and had seven children of her own; I was the 2^nd of six daughters.  She ran the house, cooked, cleaned, took care of finances and sewed most of our clothes. When I was in high school, she sewed all of my prom dresses out of beautiful fabrics like brocade and Swiss dot, using patterns that I picked out. My mom had a gift for sewing!

The reason she was such a professional seamstress is….

When Mamie was 15 her mom sent her to a Hadley Technical School for a sewing class.  Soon after she finished her sewing class, one morning after mass, her mother said, “Mamie, Mamie, a lady is going to take you to get a job”, and sure enough, a very mysterious woman, dressed all in black and wearing a hat with netting over her eyes, came to her home and took her on the trolley car.   For the whole trip, the woman did not say a word, nor did my mother.  They got off the trolley on Washington Ave., there were factories lining both sides of the street, every kind of clothing factory imaginable, from men’s suits to women’s lingerie.  This woman led her into one of the dress factory.  They then went into a rickety old elevator and rose to the 7^th floor, when the huge doors opened, she saw a very big man cutting a tall stack of fabric.   As instructed, she went up to the man and asked if she could have a job.  He answered in a Jewish accent, “How old are you?”  She knew the right answer, for she was told what to say beforehand, “I am seventeen years old”.  The law at the time was you had to be at least 17 years old to operate a power machine.  The man smiled a knowing smile.  She was 15, but she got the job!

Learning was her delight and escape.  After eight short years it came to an end.

Because she did not go on to high school, she always felt inferior.  So after her children were raised, at the age of 65, she went to night school to earn her GED.  After a few lessons the teacher told her to take the test.  She didn’t feel ready, but she took it anyway and passed with flying colors.  She is so proud of her high school certificate!  Mamie is now 88 years old.  Her old strings are cut and have been replaced by the strings of old age.  Her husband of 64 years has passed away, she is left with time: time to think.   What if?  What if I went on to school?  What if I followed my heart?  What if I knew my own value and power?  What if I played by my own rules? With all the questions, there are no regrets, she is very proud of the work she has done.  After grieving my father’s death, she is looking for some work, something to make her noble.  Women have different rules.  My mother with her abiding integrity, loyalty and common sense followed her conscience.  She followed the rules set for her.  Throughout history there have been different rules for women than there are for men and my mother gave her 6 daughters new rules.  She gave us wings!